"Hello, I'm Amber Marigold, but you can call me Rebma. Rebma D'logiram," I greet after opening the front door.

In front of me is a dark skinned man in his early forties and an identical younger version of the man, standing next to him. Behind them are a couple of more guys.

"Hello, Rebma, I'm Gareth Finnegan and this is my son, Falco Finnegan. I was part of the original six inner-gang members of Sterling," Gareth says. 

"Welcome, Gareth," I say and step aside for everyone to walk in. "Hello, Falco," I greet the young man when he passes me. He has a friendly smile - just like his father. But I don't doubt they're both hiding at least two weapons each.

When everyone - about a dozen, men are comfortably inside, I lead them to the living room where I already arranged all the couches for everybody to see me. The air around all of us is tense and awkward as everyone grabs a seat. My current inner gang stands at the wall - arms crossed and trying not to look intimidated by the crowd of more mature men.

I pause for a moment. Try feeling nervous or scared, but the burning hate towards Xavier quickly fades out and I'm once again left with a cold, hollow shell. I almost don't even feel like talking. But with a steady breath, I know this is all I have left of myself. My right to be Sterling's leader.

I suck in another breath and start: "So, I've called this meeting, because we obviously, have a few things to discus regarding the gang," I start off with. "Firstly, as all of you probably know by now, I have claimed my right to be Sterling's leader and-"

"Not to be rude, but how can we trust you're the rightful heir?" someone interrupts. He's a large man at the back with quite an impressive beard.

"My father was Trebor and I-" I try to say.

"You must understand that we are skeptic about that claim," Gareth interrupts. His dark brows knit together and his son next to him, stares at me for  long moment as well.

I don't find myself getting annoyed. I only feel a dangerous pulse go through my hollow chest. "Well, then let me explain. My father's name was Robert Marigold and Trebor D'logiram is that name backwards. Nearly two years ago, he and my mother got murdered right here in this house. They never told me about the gang, but they-"

"We all knew Robert was Trebor. It's no surprise," The bearded man interrupts again.

"Excuse me, what is your name?" I ask.

"What Nixon is trying to say," Gareth quickly says, "Is that Robert was our second command and nobody knew who Trebor was or what he even looked like, except him. We're not stupid, we knew Robert was Trebor backwards, but we never addressed the issue. We pretended to accept the orders that were sent on the Web to us. Always addressed from Trebor. Never attached with a face. We figured it was Robert's way of protecting himself. We don't doubt that Robert was Trebor, just that you are his daughter. We only saw the girl once or twice and if our leader truly got murdered, wouldn't the girl be killed off as well?" 

I stare at him with cold, dead eyes. "You knew Robert got murdered?" I ask, "And yet, did nothing?"

Gareth swallows a lump in his throat. "We didn't know how to handle the situation. If news spread, Sterling would've had a massive downfall. We tried keeping it quiet and pretend to still get messages from Trebor, even though we didn't. We just wanted to buy ourselves some time," Gareth explains.

I sigh. "And now you need proof I'm your dead leader's daughter?" I ask.

"Yes," someone else says.

"Well, I can probably name every weapon you all carry and I have my ID here as well-" I try to say, but get interrupted again.

"We do not require party tricks or forged ID's," the large bearded man - Nixon says.

"Even if you were Robert's daughter, we can't have a girl as our leader," another man chirps in.

"We need someone strong."

"Especially in times like these!"

"I am strong," I try to say, but everyone is talking over each other.

"We must vote for a new leader!"

"We cannot have a scrawny girl pretending to know what she's doing!"

Blake and Owen immediately walk up to me - trying to calm everyone down and tell them to show some respect for me. They go as far as to stand in front of me as the men in the room start getting angrier and angrier about wasting their time listening to a girl.

"With the South rising, we need a strong leader!"

"We cannot afford mistakes!"

Blake turns to me with a worried look. "Go up stairs, we'll handle this," he says before shouting back at the men.

Even Owen pauses to squeeze my hand, "Go, we know how to deal with idiots. You're not ready for this mess," he says and goes back to shouting at all the men as well.

I feel that hollowness pulse again.

"We demand a vote immediately so that Sterling can rise back!"

I clench my fists.

"That girl, daughter or no daughter, is not fit to lead!"

I grit my teeth.

"She barely looks capable of picking up a gun!"

Maybe they're right?

"Now is the time for a new heir!"

Maybe they're wrong.

"We need a vote!"

"SHUT UP," I yell and immediately, everyone stops talking.

I feel that cold, hollow feeling pulse violently. My eyes drill into everyone who dares to meet my glare. My fists are ready to break someone's jaw if they try interrupting me again. I don't feel much, but I do dangerous. And I like it...

"Everyone except Nixon, sit," I order and they do so without question. Nixon, large as he is with his beard, looks pretty scared at this point and I make sure to stare at him for a few seconds before saying: "You have four weapons on you. An AMT Automag V, designed and made in nineteen-seventy is in your back pocket. A Beretta M-nine, made in nineteen-ninety in Italy is in the front of your pants. A Ruger MP-nine made in nineteen-ninety-five is in your jacket pocket. And of course there's the small Tanfoglio GT-twenty-seven made in nineteen-sixty-two, Italy, that's strapped to your ankle," I say without missing a beat.

Everyone's jaws drop.

"You may sit," I dismiss and Nixon does so without question.

Finally, with a little more respect, I say: "Blake, Owen, you may move away now," and they go back to join Sean at the wall. 

I look everyone in the eye when I say: "Without even knowing it, I was bred for this life. Minutes before you came, two-dozen Southerners charged into my house and had the four of us at gun point. All of them are now dead and in my backyard." I don't mention Xavier being the one that killed them, and everyone looks genuinely impressed.

"I have literally died and came back to life. I can probably beat any of you in a car-race or shooting-contest. My physical capability is probably also far superior to any of you. Why? Because I am Trebor D'logiram's daughter. Sterling was at the very top, but we are going to fall and crash if we don't do something. Tygerwell is the gateway to the rest of the country. The South are making their move. The North can probably not be trusted. And despite all odds, I, Rebma D'logiram managed to merge the West and East into my gang. Into Sterling," I say.

Everyone looks at Owen and Blake who both nod. 

"I do not care if you think I cannot do this, because I know I can. I do not care for voting. I will be naming Sterling's new inner-gang right now," I announce.

Seven, I think to myself. Seven will be enough.

"My driver, Sean Shavel. My brains, Blake Bowmen. My muscle, Owen Rhodes," I announce. 

Three more... I need three more, but I can't disguard the old inner-gang of Sterling... And I can't have Lynch involved anymore... Ryan and Bryan will probably also have a more useful purpose if they take care of Tygerwell for me...

"Falco, shall be my ears. And Gareth, you shall be my second in command," I announce.

Everyone quietly murmur their agreements. If I were to make Blake or Owen my second in command, they would be jealous of the other. Also, these were Sterling's original members. They deserve high ranks.

"And lastly," I announce. "My brute force, because he's probably as stubborn as a bull, Nixon."

There's quiet laughter and Nixon looks genuinely surprised, but also appreciative. He sits up a little straighter and has a small smile. Nobody wants a petty leader and I could use someone like Nixon in my inner-gang.

"Now, I don't know about you, but today has been a long day for me. You may stay here if you'd like. Most of the rooms have been cleaned and I will have food brought for a big dinner," I announce.

Before anyone can say anything, I'm off. I speed walk upstairs and grab my bag. It's sounding pretty jolly down stairs so I better go get food for tonight. When I have my purse, I jump at the warm hands at my sides.

"You were great!" Owen says behind me.

Slowly, I turn and fake a smile for Owen's sake. "I'm going to get some food for the house," I reply.

"I'll come with," Owen says and the two of us quickly head for my garage. If everything is still as I left it, Owen is going to start drooling any second now.

Sure enough, when I flick on the lights to the garage, Owen visibly gawks at the two dozen sports cars. "Pick one," I say and cross my arms.

"Obviously, the Lamborghini," Owen smirks.

I grab the keys and we make our way down the small steps and into the massive garage. The cars are all covered in dust, but there's nothing a little wind can't do to fix that. I press a bottom and the car doors to the white Lamborghini spread open like wings. She's almost as gorgeous as Blue Jay. Owen and I slide in and with another press of a button, the garage doors open and we speed out of there.

I remember the city like I was here yesterday. Down that turn, you'll get to my old school. Up ahead is the diner my family and I liked to spend Sunday afternoons at. Around that corner is an art store. 

"What are you thinking about?" Owen asks.

I pause.

"I'm thinking about how this city is a ghost town filled with living people," I answer.

"Must be hard coming back to the place where your parents got murdered," Owen mumbles. 

"Not really," I reply, because it's not how I imagined it at all. I didn't break down and start to sob. I didn't yell at the stupid bed. I didn't curse the hallways. I felt nothing. It was just a house, not a home.

And suddenly I wonder if I'd ever have a home again.

We stop outside a grocery store, but before I can climb out, Owen has his hand on my leg. He looks so vulnerable when I look back at him. "I'm not sorry I pledged my life to Rebma," Owen says. "But you have to understand, before Rebma even showed up, I already pledged my heart to Amber..."

I look at Owen for a long time. "And I pledged my heart to you and Blake as well," I breathe. Owen looks happy for a second before I add: "But my heart stopped beating four months ago."

Despite the morbid feeling, Owen still tries to cheer me up when we shop for some food. He chucks me with condoms and I duck. I chuck him with tampons and he lets out a high pitched scream before running away. 

When we have everything we need, I swipe my card to pay and then we head back to the Lambo and try getting all of the groceries in to the car. I let Owen drive back, while I make a few calls to hire some temporary maids and cooks for tonight. Sterling looks like a hungry bunch.

By the time we get back to my house, Nixon apparently found the wine cellar and everyone is having a good time - celebrating their new leader and the new path Sterling is on. Gareth comes to congratulate me - his dark skin is smooth when we hook our arms and talk about how we need to figure out shipments and deals. Sterling is after all, into weapon trading.

But somehow I don't like the idea of gun violence.

Maids quickly arrive to get the place a little more clean and cooks come to start working on a dinner while Sterling has mostly moved to the entertainment room to attempt getting rid of my wine supply. 

I head upstairs and quickly dress into a tight black dress that's just above the knee while putting on some black heels as well. I look myself over in the mirror. I look mature. Not at all like a girl who has a three or four months of high school left.  I try, really try looking for some paint. I could've sworn I once painted something while wearing this dress...

There's a knock on the door and Blake walks in. I hand him a practiced smile.

"Everyone seems to be very happy," Blake smiles.

"Is the dinner ready yet?" I ask in return.

"Yeah, that's why I'm here," Blake explains.

I give myself one last look in the mirror - refuse to acknowledge the dull hair and pale limbs, before hooking my arm into Blake's and leaving my old room. Blake is wearing his leather jacket as always and it doesn't smell like smoke for once. 

"I have to talk to you about something," Blake says.

"You can talk," I reply.

"Later," Blake answers before we get to the dining room. 

We fortunately have a rather large table so everybody has a seat when the cooks bring in stacks and stacks of food. I sit at the head of the table and make sure to have Gareth and his son at my right. Falco, the younger version of his father has been sending me kind smiles all night. I have Owen and Blake on my left - the latter won a rock-paper-scissors contest to sit right next to me. 

Everyone is still chatting and the mood of the night is so warm with the buzz of people talking about how great the new gang will be. When all the food is on the table, Nixon stand up - his chair scraping as the large man moves away from the table. 

Nixon looks at me and raises a one-too-many glass of wine. "To a new Sterling and to a great leader. To Rebma," Nixon says - looking like a viking with his beard.

"To Rebma," Everyone else chimes.

Someone has poured me a glass of wine and I quickly down it when everyone else downs their drinks as well. The room soon again fills with the buzz of warm conversations. Friends laughing and making jokes.

I look down at my food, wondering when the last time was that I had a proper meal. Before I can take a bite, Blake puts his hand on mine and I look up at the not-so-bleak boy. 

"I know Xavier has been on your back about marrying him," Blake whispers.

"And?" I ask.

"And I know how to get rid of him," Blake replies.

Hey goldies!

Are the chapters alright? I know sometimes sequels just drop in quality and plot, so I really want to know if these chapters are fine? We will get more action soon, but the technicality of Sterling and what not was something we had to get done as well. There will be more ship time soon enough now that Sterling is figured out. 

Any ideas for dates? I'd be interested to hear.

Next update is in 24 hours as usual so don't forget to VOTE, COMMENT and that I LOVE y'all!

Stay awesome and stay cabbage.

~ Holly Shmit